


Sunshine

by TeraKaren



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Bat Family, Gen, Preboot, and like all of the Titans and main Justice League
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 15:30:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6200704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeraKaren/pseuds/TeraKaren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The honor of your presence is requested for the funeral and memorial service of Richard John Grayson. Sunday, August 29 at 11:00 a.m. Wayne Manner, 1 Manner Dr, Crest Hill, NJ.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunshine

In reality the day was an average Gotham day. It was slightly overcast and the breeze made your bones shake, but sun beams peeked out from behind the clouds, illuminating the water on the grass. For those attending, however, the sun seemed a little bit dimmer than usual. The world was grayer and slightly off kilter.

Today was the day they buried the last of the Flying Graysons, Richard John Grayson, age 27.

There were two separate services, as was customary for those with double lives within the Superhero community. This particular one was without costumes in the Wayne family cemetery. The grounds were full of people. Most of Haley’s Circus was in attendance to pay their respects. A great deal many of the Titans were there as well, including Dick’s four oldest friends. A clearly high Roy fidgeted in his seat and put his remaining hand on Donna’s leg as she cried onto his shoulder. Wally had a hand over his eyes, trying and failing to keep face in front of his wife, Linda, while Garth stood stoically as a king of Atlantis should.

Several of the Justice League were there, with Clark barely holding it together as he hugged Lois close and Diana mournfully keeping her composure, accepting death with all the dignity of an Amazon warrior as she acted as officiant for the occasion.

Four seats were set up front, but only two of them were occupied. In the middle Tim Drake-Wayne sat, never breaking eye contact with the casket. He didn’t cry, he hardly blinked. With one hand on Damian’s back, he looked frozen in time at that one moment. Kon, Bart, and Cassie all stood behind him in silent support. Damian sat next to his brother, looking irritated and lost with his head bowed down and his hands clasped together in front of him. He wasn’t sure how to take Drake touching him, but he kept looking over at the other Robin’s blank look and allowed it.

Bruce Wayne was noticeably missing from his son’s funeral, but nobody expected him to come, not really. The way Alfred kept looking toward the manner told everyone who really knew the Bat that he was probably working like he hadn’t stopped doing since Dick’s death. Everyone knew how well Bruce coped with loss.

Another one missing was Barbara Gordon. Very much like Bruce in this instance, Oracle declined coming, saying that she couldn’t handle it and instead had been completely focused on her work. Also like Bruce, however, she planned on having a very private breakdown, both unwilling to appear weak in front of anyone.

Cassandra Cain appeared to not be present, but she was hidden amongst the Haley’s crowd with Stephanie, blending in with the mourners, away from expectant looks and condolences.

Diana walked over to a music player in a docking port with speakers. She scrolled through the music player and addressed the crowd.

“For one of his last requests Richard asked that these songs be played during his service. His hope was that they might bring you some peace.”

She hit a button on the player and static came over the speaker. After a few seconds, an unexpected voice popped up.

“Uh, hi,” Dick Grayson’s voice came over the speakers, catching most of the people off guard and some of the cries got louder, “this one goes out to you Bruce.”

A poor quality midi melody came on in the background of the recording, and in that moment, the people attending the funeral all realized that Dick Grayson was about to sing.

**“I hOoope you nEverrrr lose your sense of wOonder!”** he sang with impressive tone deafness and volume, **“You get yourrr fiLL to eeeeat, but AlwAyyys keep thAat hungerer!”**

For a few halting seconds almost everyone paused their grieving for a moment to just stare at the device playing that insult to music.

**“MAY YOU neeEver take one siiiingle breath fOR GRANTed, God forbid LOVE ever lEAVe you emmmpty hAnDed!”**

Roy was the first one to crack, a snort and a chuckle coming up involuntarily. The people around him turned to stare at him, some even glaring.

**“I HOPE YOU STILL FEEL SMALL WHEN YOU STAND BESIDE THE OCEAN!”**

Roy coughed and tried to hide his mirthful expression for propriety’s sake, but Donna’s shoulders shook and instead of sobs she burst out laughing by his ear. He winced, but broke out laughing fully.

**“WHENEVER ONE DOOR closes I hooope one morrre OPENS!”**

Donna’s laugh set off a chain reaction as other people who were trying to be polite and not laugh at what was possibly the last time they would hear their dead friend’s voice, let out reluctant chuckles and giggles.

**“Promise me THAt you will give FFfaith a fiiighTING chanccce.”**

Alfred sighed in exasperation, though his smile was painfully fond and his eyes suspiciously watery. Dinah shook her head and gave a small smile.

“That’s your man, baby,” she said softly to herself and shared a look with Helena. She knew that despite what she said, Barbara had eyes on this event, and even if she couldn’t bear to watch, she was certainly listening in, and she was hearing this abomination of singing talent. She had been going through every crazy mission Barbara threw at her without complaint for the past couple of days, and Dinah was thankful for the rest. She wished that she could be there with her, but with Roy here there was no way she was going to leave.

Clark smiled privately at the joy the people around him suddenly sprouted. He felt a touch of concern when his super hearing picked up that Bruce had stopped typing for the first time in hours. He had heard the feedback from the audio playing in the Batcave and knew that Bruce was watching. Bruce's breath had halted, indicating surprise and the words “I can’t believe he remembered that old bet” forced its way out of the Dark Knight’s choked up throat. It was followed immediately by a cold “I know you’re listening Clark. Stop,“ but Clark ignored him and listened as his friend continually failed and succeeded in holding off his tears.

**"AND when you geEt the choice to siiiTTt it out OR danCe.”**

Cass had left Stephanie with a group of Haley’s contortionists who she was leaning on and laughing hardily with. She moved quietly to the front and sat next to Tim, who still hadn’t moved even as everyone started laughing. She placed a hand over his, the sudden touch causing him to turn his head and look at her with a blank expression, which in turn caused Damian to look at her as well. She held his free hand in both of hers.

“It’s OK,” she brought his hand to her cheek and held it tenderly, “Just don’t forget that you have family. Dick never did.”

She closed her eyes and listened. Tim blinked. Having his own words thrown back at him forced him to pay attention to them and the world bled back around him against his will. He had not wanted to remember this day like he had the others --The smell of grass, the uncomfortable way his tailored suit felt, the tears, the condolences and expectation-- but the world came back and he was sitting just yards away from his second home listening to his friends and colleagues laugh at Dick butcher a song better suited for a mother/daughter brunch than a funeral.

Tim felt all of his emotions come at once and his face contorted into an ugly, scrunched up expression before he started sobbing openly. Cass smiled and rested her head on his shoulder, his hand held in her lap.

**“I hoOpe you DAAAAAAAaaaAAAAAAAaaAAAAAAANCE! I hope you daaAAaaance.”**

Damian gave Tim a disgusted look before crossing his arms and looking away with derision. Everyone was laughing and it was insulting. Somehow Grayson had managed to make a disgrace of himself even in death.

Stephanie walked up behind them with a big grin, holding her stomach from laughing so much. She saw Cass with Tim and her grin turned into a more somber smile. She turned to look at Damian who looked ready to murder someone. Stephanie sighed and sat in the seat next to Damian.

“What’s wrong brat?”

Damian gave her a you-can’t-be-serious look that she figured she deserved. Right. Funeral. She looked at him again and moved closer to him.

“Let me rephrase that. You don’t look so good. Want to talk about it?”

Damian just glared and said, “no”, to which Stephanie replied, “OK” but didn’t move away from Damian. For a few moments she just sat there with him. Damien looked at Stephanie, her presence silent and surprisingly comforting. His irritation gave way to something more uncertain and he adverted his eyes away from Stephanie before addressing her.

“How could Grayson soil his reputation like this? He’ll be remembered as a fool. But he was…”

Damien closed his eyes to prevent the tears from coming, but when he closed them he saw Dick’s kind eyes, smiling at him, accepting him. But his eyes snapped open when he felt someone bodily moving him and he found himself pressed against Stephanie, her arms wrapping snuggly around him.

“He was generous. He was brave. He was loving. He could take out 20 scumbags without touching the ground. He lead teams of the most amazing people on the planet. He was one of the feared Bats of Gotham. He was your brother. He was our family. And nobody here will hear the name Dick Grayson and remember him as a fool. Or we’ll knock their teeth out,” she said smiling, “OK?”

Damian was stiff in her grasp, but pressed closer to her as he listened to what she was saying. He buried his face in her neck and chocked on a sob.

“He was a fool,” he croaked out with a sniff. Stephanie rolled her eyes, but started running a hand through his hair. Stephanie knew the value of these last moments. These were the very last memories they would all create with Dick, and he would want them to be good ones, wouldn’t he? That’s why she was going to enjoy them and make the best of them. Because she knew the hard part came later, but they’d get to that when it came.

“Fine, make a liar out of me,” she replied. Damien gripped onto her harder.

“A damn fool,” he murmured against her neck. 

Dick’s song came to an end with fading midi music so cheesy that you could practically see the [instruments playing] subtitle in front of shifting Tropical landscapes.

“Sorry to start off with such an emotional song,” he said when the track ended, “but I have a bet to win. Now get on with the eulogizing.”

And it was over. The laughs had died down to just the sound of shifting and sniffing. Diana cleared her throat to get everyone’s attention.

“Well, let’s get started. I believe that Richard’s friend Donna would like to say a few words-”

 **“Who runs the world? Girls! Who runs the world? Girls!”** came blasting out of the speaker suddenly, reminding everyone that they were listening to a whole set of songs hand chosen by the deceased. Diana turned down the speakers so that the music was in the background.

“If you would please come up here, Donna,” she said gesturing for her sister to stand next to her. And she did, giving a heartfelt speech about her best friend with the accompaniment of Miss Sasha Fierce in the background. When Clark went up Weezer’s “Buddy Holly” came on, making him shift the glasses on his face sheepishly. Linda kept giving Wally don’t-you-dare-do-it looks when “Sexy and I Know It” came on and he paused too long getting back to his place in the crowd. That didn’t stop Kori from giggling and shimmying when the song went “wiggle wiggle wiggle wiggle wiggle” in the middle of her tale of heroic rescue. Wally gave his wife an I-could-be-doing-that look that made her elbow him in the side and made Garth grin like a loon. In the middle of Mr. Haley’s speech about going to that big tent in the sky, Brittney Spears’ “Circus” came on, causing a few people to chuckle into their fist, and caused a few of the Haley’s people to do tricks in the crowd.

It was more fun than it had any right to be, where people told stories about Dick and laughed together, everyone aware that this was what he had wanted. Their worlds were still permanently shifted and not everyone could fully appreciate the fun going on, but for a short time the sun was still shining bright.

—

Jason walked up to the grave site, jacket collar pulled up high in a vain attempt to protect his ears from the chill. He stopped at the newest headstone, unnaturally bright grass growing over a coffin sized area of the ground.

He reached into his jacket pockets for his lighter and a pack of cigarettes. He hit the bottom of the pack to shift the tobacco and popped one in his mouth. His hands prickled with warmth when he cupped his hand around the flame to keep the wind from snuffing it out. When it caught, he took a long drag and blew out smoke into the Autumn chill. He made a few small coughs, but stopped them by taking two small drags from the cigarette before placing it on top of the headstone. Jason put a new one in his mouth.

“You know, I haven’t smoked since before the pit,” he mumbled out as he lit his second cigarette and took small drags before breathing out fully and flicking ash to the ground, “but you said you would only smoke with me when you were dead and buried, and I couldn’t very well pass that up, could I Goldie?”

He smirked and took another drag of his cigarette, actively not looking toward Wayne Manner. He chuckled suddenly.

“Shit,” he took another drag, “Babybird sent me your funeral mix. Fucking seriously Grayson, a funeral mix? They say I’m crazy, but you’re the madman. Makes me almost sorry that I missed the big send off.”

Jason looked up at the sky and smiled, shaking his head and taking another drag.

“I can’t believe that you remembered that bet, you bastard. I was, what? 15 I think. Shit was hilarious though,” Jason laughed shortly at that, “but I guess a deal’s a deal.”

He kneeled down in front of the grave marker and looked at the black lettering on the gray stone, running his hand over the grooves of the letters compulsively. Jason smiled fondly, tracing the new form of a familiar name.

“I’ll see you on the other side brutha,” he said kissing his hand and patting the side of the grave stone twice, “unless you’re brought back by an ancient Amazonian g-string or some shit.”

Jason smirked and sat down on top of the grassy grave, wincing as his jeans started soaking in water from the moist, cool ground. The wind chill was lessened lower to the ground however, and that was a plus. He took one last drag of his cigarette before snubbing it out on the ground and putting it next to the one on the grave stone, that one already soggy, having never stood a chance from the moisture on the grave marker. Jason sat cross-legged so that he was facing Dick’s grave stone, a spot of sunlight warming a patch of his forehead.

“I’m sure the old man is watching, so this totally counts,” Jason smiled crookedly, “this one goes out to you Bruce.”

He shook his head and sang, voice not hitting all the notes correctly, but still pleasant enough.

 **“He rocks in the tree tops all day long, hoppin’ and a-boppin’ and singing his song. All the little birdies on Jaybird Street,”** Jason couldn’t help but roll his eyes at that, **“love to hear the robin go tweet tweet tweet.”**

**“Rockin’ Robin. Oh, Rockin’ Robin. Blow Rockin’ Robin cause we’re really gonna rock tonight.”**

Jason was sure Dick was laughing his ass off in whatever afterlife had accepted him.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because I couldn't stop laughing at the idea of him singing that song badly. I wrote the rest of the fic around it, which I realize is a dumb reason for a death!fic. Hopefully I did okay.


End file.
